


gambler's fallacy

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, ernest/bertrand if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 04:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20039929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: What’s the chance that there is going to be a second elaborately pulled off fake death, after the first one already occurred?





	gambler's fallacy

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE  
please don't copy this story to another site

“I don’t like this plan, it’s awful, and it’s going to go wrong,” Ernest said in a clipped tone with such blunt disapproval that he almost sounded like Frank, but Frank, along with Kit and Beatrice, was several feet away nearby, as Bertrand knew. All three were dutifully playing their roles in the script for the funeral which Beatrice, who’d proven herself to be not only a spectacular actress but also talented at writing scripts and organizing a fake funeral, had written and assigned everyone their parts to play.

Bertrand almost winced a bit, but he thought he probably didn’t show it. It was unlike Ernest to be so direct and so disagreeing, at least with him. Sure he was more antagonizing with K and bickered with his brothers often, but with Bertrand, the two of them were usually pleasant. Perhaps once or twice B _had_ wished E would be more honest, more blunt with him, but this was hardly the best time for it, with the plan soon going into execution soon - or already began, perhaps. This wasn’t a good time for an argument. The wisdom “be careful what you wish for” felt dismayingly fitting.

“We’ll try our best to prevent it from going wrong,” Bertrand said, because what _else_ could he say.

Ernest gave a small sneer at the diplomatic but essentially useless answer, before leaning in close, his lips almost pressing against Bertrand’s right ear. Bertrand stilled, surprised at the proximity - all too familiar, all too tempting. Ernest usually never made such a daring move when other people were nearby.

“There are others here,” he warned quietly.

“And I’m playing the role of the grieving brother,” Ernest said in a low voice, low enough that no one else would hear him, but not low enough for Bertrand to be able to ignore the smirk in his voice. “Just looking for a shoulder to cry on.”

Bertrand closed his eyes.

“This is going to come back to get you all,” Ernest murmured. “One day someone’s going to plan a fake funeral for one of you’re all close to, and you would all be fooled.”

“That is probabilistically unlikely,” Bertrand countered in an equally low voice.

“Enlighten me, probability expert,” Ernest whispered.

“What’s the chance that there is going to be a second elaborately pulled off fake death, after the first one already occurred?” Bertrand said, resisting the urge to adjust his glasses. Ernest was too close. He didn’t want to risk accidentally brushing against him.

“Gambler's fallacy much?” Ernest asked, sounding drily amused. “I expected better of you, to be honest.”

“This is hardly a random event like throwing a coin,” Bertrand said, pursing his lips. “When VFD already had a secret sub-sub-librarian in charge of collecting all information, the likelihood that someone else would also get assigned this role, independent of this whole operation, is smaller compared to before we execute this plan.”

“But not impossible,” Ernest pointed out, “and there are many other ways this could occur.”

“True,” Bertrand permitted airily. “Though a lot of things could be argued to be not impossible, technically, if you want to argue it that way.”

Ernest sighed. “I just, don’t like it,” he reiterated his early statement.

_Me either, if I’m being honest_, Bertrand thought, _but we have to go along with it._

Ernest studied Bertrand, his eyes far too shrewd and perceptive, and he shook his head slightly before sighing and pulling away.

* * *

Many many years later, when his niece connected Frank and him with her other uncle, the one everyone thought had died a long time ago, Ernest couldn’t help but feel grimly amused in a way.

“Snicket,” he exclaimed, half-disbelieving, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. He stole a quick glance at Frank who looked very shocked as well. Perhaps his eyes were not playing tricks on him after all.

His niece grinned brightly at all of them, and Ernest’s heart melt just a little for a moment, before refocusing his attention back on the man in front of him again.

“Do you know,” he asked, his mouth curving up slightly, “what I once said to Bertrand Baudelaire during Dewey’s fake funeral?”

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
